Page 31 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

Tracing a large finger over the map, he grunted and then said, “Most of the night would be my guess.”

“Then we’ll use that time to fix the hull and load cannons with moriarthy dust,” she said.

“If we put dust into the cannons, won’t it just spray into the air?” Holland asked. “We’d have to wait until the Rakuuna were right next to the cannons for that to be effective, and I assume they’ll just rip apart the bottom of the boat long before their ship is close enough for dust spray to hurt them.”

“Then figure out a better delivery system,” she snapped, though she knew it was unfair. It wasn’t Holland’s fault they were in such a precarious position. It wasn’t her fault, either. It was the Rakuuna’s—and somehow she had to fight off a ship full of the monsters without leaving any survivors.

A chill crept down her spine as the truth hit hard. If even one Rakuuna from the ship outside the cave survived, they would bring the news to their queen that Charis had moriarthy dust. She’d lose the element of surprise and give the Rakuuna ample time to come up with countermeasures to save themselves and destroy her people.

The tunnel expanded slowly, and then all at once it was gone, and they were floating in a lagoon half the size of Arborlay’s harbor. The crack in the mountain above became a wide fissure, allowing the faint glow of moonlight to fill the space, turning their entire surroundings a shadowy, ghostly blue. She hadn’t realized they’d been inside the cave long enough for night to fall.

“If we sail to the center of this, how far away are the basilisks, provided we don’t look into the water?” Charis asked.

Reuben immediately squinted toward the craggy walls that enclosed the lagoon before once more looking down. “A pretty sizable distance, Your Majesty. And it’s so dim that it would be hard to meet a direct gaze until we’re back in the tunnels.”

Charis considered their options for a moment, though really there was nothing to consider. The hull had to be fixed, and weapons capable of leaving no survivors had to be fashioned. However long that took was how long they would have to remain here.

Finally she said in a tone that projected absolute certainty, “Get us to the center of the lagoon and weigh anchor. We’ve got work to do.”

Twelve

THE SHIP ROCKED gently in the center of the lagoon, and Charis shivered at the occasional thud of a basilisk brushing against the bottom.

The lagoon was approximately the same size as the small bay at Portsmith where she’d seen the Rakuuna queen’s armada several months ago. Craggy walls rose high on every side, and the ceiling was a lopsided dome with a long, jagged opening at the top, revealing the distant, star-flecked velvet of the night sky. Her chest squeezed painfully as she scanned her surroundings, but Reuben’s assessment was correct. The walls where the snakes might be coiled on ledges were too far from the ship and the light was too dim for the basilisks to threaten her people. There was a large shadow in the water off to her right—maybe a rocky outcropping or a small island?—but it was also far enough away that her crew wouldn’t risk meeting a basilisk’s gaze by looking at it.

Another thud echoed from the bottom of the ship, and she turned to Finn. “Order the crew to stay away from the sides of the ship. I don’t want anyone accidentally glancing at the water. Post guards at the bow and stern and on the port and starboard side, five paces in to protect them from looking into the water. I want them listening for anything trying to climb up the ship.”

Could a snake shimmy its way up the side of a ship even with fishing nets in place? She thought it likely they’d get tangled in the netting, but her understanding of the creatures was limited at best.

Her people were safe, for now, but they couldn’t hide in this lagoon indefinitely. They needed to fix the hull and make weapons capable of killing an entire ship full of Rakuuna, including any who jumped into the sea. The task seemed impossible, but a month ago finding a weapon capable of killing the Rakuuna had seemed impossible, too.

First, however, she had to deal with what was in front of her. They’d lost Joren and Uriah, and she could hardly bear to look at their bodies.

Entering the cave had been the right move, but she was so weary of feeling like every decision she made was paid for with someone’s blood. Forcing herself to crouch beside their bodies, she gently closed their eyes and whispered her thanks for their service. There was an ache deep inside, like the dull pain of a bone bruise. Was this how Mother had felt every time she’d read the casualty lists from the war?

They couldn’t keep the bodies aboard the ship. She was going to have to send two of her own into the cold, unforgiving arms of the sea, and nothing about that felt right. They should be buried in their family plots, nestled by loved ones in the soft, fertile ground of Calera. Seers should be reading blessings over them, and chimes should ring in their honor. Their loved ones should be able to bring flowers and fruit to their graves every birthday.

Instead, they’d be lost to the deep, and no one would have a way to visit them and remember. Her throat burned as the ache spread from her chest to her neck.

Her people deserved better.

Orayn crouched beside her, his large brown hands resting briefly on the shoulders of the fallen. “They were good lads, and they’ll be missed. I know Joren’s mother. When we’ve retaken Calera, I’ll be sure to tell her how bravely her son served his queen.”

It was difficult to breathe. Difficult to blink away the tears that stung her eyes.

“You made the right decision,” Orayn said quietly. “We lost two, aye. And it’s a hard loss. But we would have lost everyone aboard the ship and the poison we carry if you hadn’t sent us into this cave.”

“But how do I get us out of this cave alive?” she whispered, careful to keep her words from carrying to the nearby crew.

Orayn met her gaze. “I don’t know, but I have faith that between you, me, and the rest of our people, we’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, because what else could she do? They had to come up with a plan. The alternative was unthinkable.

Orayn stood as she did and said softly, “Your father would be proud of you. He always said you’d be the best queen Calera has ever known, and I haven’t seen anything yet that proves him wrong.”

His words slipped into the hollow of her chest, sharp as knives, precious as gems. She drew in a shaky breath and found she had the strength to lift her chin and wipe her face clear of the doubt that crouched in the corners of her thoughts.

“Have Ayve and Finn prepare these two honorable men for burial at sea.” Her voice caught on the last word, but she pushed through. “And then send several crew members down to patch the hull and bail out the water. Once those things are complete, we’ll rest for tonight and tackle the problem of making weapons in the morning.”

---